


In a Far Country

by Digitalwave



Category: DCU (Comics), Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Digitalwave/pseuds/Digitalwave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, even in the darkness, the heart always knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Far Country

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the Pucker Up: The Multifandom Mini Challenge on LiveJournal many moons ago. I think you can tell what major DC Comics event I loosely based this on.

Clark has no sense of time, no reference point for how long he's been lost in shadows. He only knows it hurts. Strange, disjointed memories surface of terrible blows, mindless anger. The bleakness of his prison both refuge and curse against remembered pain.

A feather's touch pulls him briefly from the darkness. Familiar taste, touch, the slide of skin on skin brings him closer to the light before it once more slips away.

The loneliness, the desolation constantly stabs at his heart except for those few moments when the 'other' is there. Each time he wants to grab them, pull them close, beg them not to go.

But, he doesn't, his arms won't move, his voice trapped in silence. Though every fiber of his being tries he can't respond to the tender brushes against his lips, his cheek, his forehead.

Gentle fingers card softly through his hair, quiet voice weaving in and out of his consciousness. He knows if he could 'hear' the words it would help.

God, he wants so damned much just to hold on tight, not be trapped here in the dark.

The voice is back again, the fingers petting his face as it speaks. Soft lips brush over his, sweet breath shivering over his skin as they lean close. Clark feels the bed dip as they lie down. He's arranged carefully, a sense of love wrapped around him, the heart beating under his ear is precious, known. Clark lies quietly, drifting until a ragged hitch in its rhythm startles him, warmth splashing onto his upturned face.

Something, something is different, the blackness bleeding out to grey as the pain he hears in the softly spoken words calls to Clark. At first they're broken, disjointed, the tone husky. A single finger traces over Clark's lips as he strains to understand, to try to answer for the first time in so long.

Clark feels the startled gasp when he moans a name, his own voice ragged from disuse. Frantic movements wash over him as he's lowered to the bed. He hears 'please', 'love you, Clark', 'come back to me' over and over. Each word pulls him closer, tethers him more deeply in the 'now'.

His eyes heavy Clark blinks against the light, vision filled with blurred grey shapes as it slowly clears. More warmth splashes down, his shaking fingers captured, held and kissed. The lips touch his again, soft, demanding, laying claim to the lost portion of his soul. His home, his haven, his all… Clark breathes a single word, the last of the darkness falling away as he's held cradled, safe and warm.

"Lex."

fin


End file.
